No, you’re clawing under steel wheels, little one,
busy counting every crossbar that rushes by,
eternally thankful something takes enough to care,
drugged and laid up for days in each station!
Ya better hear Me, sweet baby, since you’re fatally caught,
because you simply didn’t wanna exercise your thoughts,
flabby ridges leading across your loathsome emotional extremes,
various incarnations of preachers dragging you by your dreams!
Lie down and spread over whatever sorry bed I create, honey,
only using these filthy sheets to bind your arms, legs, and mouth,
where you’re gonna listen to those springs all around and in your brain,
as I pump you full with My precious seed to plant an infected orchard!
Stomp the ground any place I haven’t been to yet, you sweaty pigs,
I don’t give a damn if you’re ready when I tear you apart, My figs,
remain firmly walking far in back, but don’t you dare lag behind,
and I ain’t gonna elect to fall for your foolish stumble of humankind!
Play My voice box while you wait without a choice to sleep,
morons gonna lose your heads for Me someday, so why use them,
let’s cut ears just to leave certain nobody understands what I’m saying,
peace and love for sale at bargain prices as you merely have to believe!
We’re gonna party and rock ourselves above everybody’s bones,
bleeding upon your pathetic anguish before they roll My stone,
get your flimsy stories in order as if I was actually making sense,
then you and I are gonna seriously drive mad anyone on the fence!
Sharwrong's Song 